


Thirteen Hours, Fourteen Minutes

by thecivilunrest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3x06, Episode Tag, M/M, Mention/Thoughts of Suicide, Pre-Slash, i guess, if you want to look at it that way, that's how i see it but whatever you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecivilunrest/pseuds/thecivilunrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do not tell me you’re trying to put <i>The Phantom Menace</i> into the player first,” Stiles says, making a disgusted noise at the back of his throat.</p><p>“It’s the first one!” Scott protests. “It has the number one on it and everything.”</p><p>“No. We’re going to start with <i>A New Hope</i> the way God and George Lucas intended.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirteen Hours, Fourteen Minutes

The first thing that Scott does when he gets home is hug his mother. She’s wearing scrubs, pink ones that she had bought last year, and her hair is up. She’s the most beautiful thing that Scott thinks he has ever seen and he hugs her so tight that he can feel her heart beating and her breath go shallow. 

Tentatively she pats his back before he finally lets her back down on the ground. It almost physically hurts him to put her down, but he does it, because he can’t hold onto her forever. He can’t hold onto anything forever--he found that out last night. 

“You smell like gasoline,” she says. “Why do you smell like gasoline?”

“Long story.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really,” Scott tells her, thinking of the way gasoline feels on the skin and the way flares heat from top to bottom. 

“And where’s Isaac?”

“He...needed to get away for a little while.” Isaac hadn’t spoken the entire bus ride home, choosing instead to sit alone and stare out the window. When the bus had stopped he’d just looked at Scott before melting into the woods, and Scott knows that Isaac just needs some alone time right now. He doesn’t blame any of them, because they lived through their worst nightmares. 

“I have a feeling that I don’t want to know about that. But I assume that this is a werewolf thing and not a juvenile delinquent thing, right?” Scott nods and Mom looks relieved. “Good. Now go take a shower.” 

Scott goes up the stairs slowly and gets into the shower. He lathers up slowly, trying to get the smell out of his skin. To his nose none of this helps, even if the soap does help mask it a little. Mostly it just smells like it did when he poured it on himself--sharp and toxic and above all deadly. 

When he gets to his room Stiles is there, DVDs in his hands. “So, you are under suicide watch,” he starts off, getting straight to the point, “for thirteen hours and fourteen minutes. That’s how long it’s going to take to watch every single Star Wars movie.”

He mostly just wants to sleep some more, but he sees the stubborn set of Stiles’s jaw, and knows that he’s not going to win this one. 

“You promised,” Stiles reminds him. “Swore, even.”

“Fine, I’ll watch the movies,” he says, taking the DVDs from Stiles’s hands. He grabs the comforter from his bed and a pillow and makes his way to the living room. His mom is still in the kitchen, but her movements are quieter now, as if she’s aware that Stiles and Scott just need some time alone. 

Scott tries to put the first one into the DVD player but before he even can Stiles stops him. 

“Do not tell me you’re trying to put _The Phantom Menace_ into the player first,” Stiles says, making a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. He has one of the maroon Beacon Hills Lacrosse blankets that his mom uses sometimes in his hands. 

“It’s the first one!” Scott protests. “It has the number one on it and everything.”

“No. We’re going to start with _A New Hope_ the way God and George Lucas intended.” 

Obviously this is more complicated than Scott thought, but he puts the fourth--why start with the _fourth_?--one into the player first and begins. At first it’s just a wall of text against a backdrop of stars, and Scott remembers why he had never agreed to watch these movies no matter how many times Stiles tried to get him to watch them. 

It takes a little while, and a lot of Stiles elbowing him every time Obi Wan Kenobi walks on screen, but eventually Scott gets into them. He likes Luke--can relate to Luke--and Leia and Han Solo and everyone. 

He likes how the bad guys are all visible and present too. There’s no guessing, no deceit and betrayal. The bad guys were black and talk through vents and the good ones kick their asses. There are also lightsabers, which is enough reason to watch in and of themselves.

“So,” Stiles says once the credits are rolling, “want to watch the next one?”

“Definitely.” Stiles gets up from beside him and walks to change out the DVDs. Scott suddenly wishes that they had one of those DVD players that can have several DVDs in them at once, so that neither of them had to get up. Stiles has been up for less than a minute and already Scott wishes that he was back next to him. 

He almost misses Stiles’s warmth, the beating of his heart in his ears, the fact that Stiles is _alive_ and _beside_ him. 

It’s almost pathetic, but all it does is remind Scott of how close he was to losing this, to the both of them going up in flames. Together. Just like they have been since Scott took the time to listen to Stiles after his mom died. 

When Stiles gets back Scott grabs his hand. Stiles stiffens a little, but relaxes when Scott holds on even tighter. He doesn’t want Stiles to flinch away from him right now, doesn’t need it. “I want to say sorry,” Scott says. “I want to say sorry that I almost killed myself, and that I almost brought you with me. But I want to say thank you too.”

 _You’ve become my new anchor,_ Scott almost says, but he doesn’t. He’s not exactly sure if that’s true. The anchor thing got more complicated when he and Allison broke up, but he wonders if all along his anchor wasn’t _just_ Allison. If it was Stiles too, all along. 

“You would have done it for me, dude,” Stiles tells him, softly. He squeezes Scott’s hand back. “If one of us goes down in flames, we both do. Always.” 

They watch the entire original trilogy, and then the second one. All thirteen hours and fourteen minutes of it. 

When Melissa finds them, they are still holding hands.


End file.
